When words cut deeper than blows

Elliot Ziwira-At the Bookstore

Murume wangu kundirova chaiko zvirinani

Murume wangu kundirova chaiko zvirinani

Muromo wako ipfumo chairo rinobaya

Unoburitsa mazwi anondigara moyo shamwari

Saka ndati kundirova zvako zvirinani. . .

Ukandirova zvinopora ndokanganwa shamwari

Ukandirova zvichipora ndokanganwa shamwari

Mazwi ako aunondiudza handikwanise kuakanganwa

Mazwi ako induru chaiyo inouraya

Muromo wako ipfumo chairo rinobaya.

So laments the woman in Marshall Munhumumwe’s timeless song “Kundirova Zvirinani”.

She pleads with her husband to restrain his tongue, for sharp words pierce the heart like a spear.

A beating may heal, she insists, but words, once spoken, leave wounds that never close.

Such is the perforating nature of words. They carry venom or balm, and often both. Whereas physical pain ebbs, a spirit burdened by cruel speech remains shackled. Words fracture families, topple friendships, and weaken societies.

Yet in other hands, they build bridges, nurture hope, and redeem fractured humanity.

Unlike missiles or nuclear armoury, which instil fear from without, words bypass the fortress and strike directly at the vulnerable inner man. They need no licence or arsenal. They are light, invisible, and uncontainable, yet heavy enough to destroy.

In essence, man is peace-loving, tolerant and corrigible. However, words are the medium that either awaken these virtues or choke them. Where brute force falters, words triumph, because they can neither be blocked nor ignored.

In the custody of a wordsmith, words become chisels that shape destinies; yet in careless mouths, they become scourges that corrode trust.

The African oral tradition has long recognised this truth. Proverbs, idioms and songs caution that the tongue is sharper than a blade, and that a word once released cannot be recalled.

Shoko harivhikwi — a word cannot be blocked.

It is against this cultural backdrop that the poetry anthology “Shoko Harivhikwi” (2013), edited by Paul Mushumbi and published by ZPH Publishers, acquires deeper resonance.

Nine Zimbabwean poets converge to affirm the potency of words in moulding relationships and shaping society — much in the same way Munhumumwe’s music does.

The anthology is woven from everyday experience. Its verses echo the familiar struggles of love, betrayal, resilience, and the relentless shadow of death. The poets insist that individuals hurt as much as they are hurt, and that unrequited love, disillusionment and mortality sit at the periphery of all human dreams.

Solomon H Munorevesa probes the tragic fallout of individualism, materialism and intolerance.

In “Chashaikwa” he mourns the collapse of commitment in marriage, which undermines the family unit and mirrors a fractured nation. With parents absconding their duties in pursuit of fleeting desires, children are abandoned to emotional and psychological ruin.

His “Ukama” pleads for love and solidarity at both personal and national levels, while “Tauriranai Zvipere” decries violence as a destructive way of settling disputes. Be it domestic or political, violence leaves trails of broken limbs and bleeding hearts.

Munorevesa also warns youths against indulgence in drugs, alcohol and premarital sex — ills that open the gates to disease, despair and premature death.

In castigating fornication and adultery for robbing marriage of its sanctity, the poet does not only moralise, but points to a national malaise. A broken home translates into a broken society.

Trust Mutekwa’s contribution explores the moral weight of honesty and the consequences of betrayal. In “Kureva Zvazviri”, he highlights honesty as the sacred glue in relationships. Flattery, he cautions, is as corrosive as falsehood, for it blinds one to truth until the consequences are too grave to ignore.

In “Tsvimbo neDohwe”, betrayal is explored both literally and figuratively. On a personal level, the poet explores how silence in the face of wrongdoing enables evil. At a continental scale, Mutekwa condemns Africa’s “wait-and-see” passivity in the face of externally sponsored wars, poverty and pandemics.

Thus, to wait silently is to betray the future.

Words, therefore, are not only for soothing or chastising — they are weapons for confronting injustice. Mutekwa’s voice asserts that the spoken word is activism in its own right.

Media Mugandani, like Munorevesa, locates the family as the crucible where individuals are forged. In “Mwanasikana”, she urges the girl-child to rise beyond dependency and resist predators who exploit vulnerability.

Women, she counsels, must dare to occupy spaces traditionally barred to them, for the world has moved on.

Her “Mudzimai” interrogates both the emancipation and oppression of women under culture and religion. Some cultural practices, once protective, have become shackles. Yet Mugandani refuses to throw away culture altogether.

Instead, she calls for reinterpretation that liberates rather than binds.

In “Vabereki” she appeals to parents to raise children guided by values that prepare them as future leaders and visionaries. Words, she reminds us, are the scaffolding of children’s moral architecture.

Harsh words break them; nurturing words equip them to face life with determination.

Like Munhumumwe in song, Mugandani venerates divine intervention as the ultimate source of strength against life’s hardships. Her imagery is drawn from storms, droughts and sunshine — signs that even when words wound, faith can restore.

Alex Chirumbwana enriches the anthology with imagery drawn from nature.

Poems such as “Dai ndiri Kamba”, “Rwizi” and “Chitima” explore man’s relationship with fellow men, the self and the environment. He uses animals, rivers and trains not as decoration, but as metaphors for resilience, movement and fragility.

Chirumbwana does not shy away from the thorny terrain of love and marriage, nor from the inescapable reality of death.

In “Mamutora” and “Manditema Midzi Yangu”, he dwells on grief and uprootedness.

In “Rufu Rwemhandara”, the young girl Sara falls victim to jealousy and witchcraft; mirroring society’s belief that few deaths are “natural”. Yet, Chirumbwana affirms that those who bring death upon others through sorcery or violence eventually meet the same fate.

Life’s futility, and death’s finality, are recurring motifs in his work.

Ushehwedu Kufakurinani directs his lamp at the darkness lurking in man’s heart — avarice, laziness, deceit and fear of the unknown. These traits, he warns, cripple development and betray youths who should be steering the nation’s fortunes.

While echoing Mutekwa in praising honesty, Kufakurinani is more circumspect. Some truths, he says, are better left unsaid, for words can destroy as much as they enlighten. Relationships, both personal and national, often falter not because of silence, but because of reckless speech that cannot be withdrawn.

Here lies the paradox of words: they are indispensable, yet dangerous; inevitable, yet unpredictable.

Alouis Tineyi Sagota celebrates cultural norms, resilience, and decolonisation of the mind. He insists that national pride, rooted in African values and rule of law, is indispensable to progress. His verses echo the age-old African belief that speech defines identity. To denigrate one’s own tongue is to estrange oneself from history.

Blessing Magodo and Jesca Rushwaya-Marwiro also enrich the collection, adding fresh cadences to its chorus of voices. Magodo’s contribution foregrounds the dangers of hypocrisy, while Rushwaya-Marwiro’s lines explore pliability in womanhood and the endurance of hope amid trials.

Reading “Shoko Harivhikwi” in 2025, one cannot ignore how prophetic its themes remain. In the age of social media, words travel faster and cut deeper. A tweet, a WhatsApp voice note, a careless comment on radio — all can trigger storms that destabilise families, companies or even nations.

Socio-political discourse, too, is shaped by words that either divide or unite. Leaders who weaponise language sow seeds of mistrust, while those who use words to inspire build lasting legacies. In homes, schools and churches, the pattern repeats — words build confidence or crush it.

Munhumumwe’s lament, therefore, is not only about marital quarrels. It is about the universal weight of speech. To tell a child, “You are useless” may scar him longer than any beating. To tell him or her, “You are nothing” may crush his/her spirit for ages.

Conversely, to say, “You can” or “We will rise” may unleash resilience capable of conquering despair for a nation.

Together, these nine poets affirm that words are double-edged.

They can dismantle families or strengthen them. They can poison societies or heal them. They can alienate or reconcile. The anthology’s title “Shoko Harivhikwi”— a word cannot be blocked — underlines this truth.

Once released, words take on lives of their own. They linger, shaping memory and destiny.

Like Munhumumwe’s grieving persona, the poets remind us that words strike deeper than blows. Yet, unlike the hopeless victim in song, they offer pathways of redemption. Words can pierce, but they can also stitch; they can destroy, but they can also rebuild.

Therefore, “Shoko Harivhikwi” is more than a collection of poems. It is a meditation on language as the essence of human relations, a call to wield words with care, honesty and vision. For in words, nations are either unmade or remade.

“Shoko Harivhikwi” (2013) is available at Typocrafters (DigiHub) Book Shop at Herald House, corner George Silundika Avenue and Sam Nujoma Street in Harare. Grab your copy today!